


Delayed Reactions

by RealtaCuardach



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealtaCuardach/pseuds/RealtaCuardach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Merlin revealed his magic to the court – not voluntarily, but destiny dictated that he do anything to save Arthur – it wasn't accepted for a week. " It took even longer for Arthur to fully understand the implications of all that Merlin had done. This is a collection of confrontations and conversations between warlock and king as Arthur slowly realizes all that has happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Trust and Betrayal

Merlin had never intended to reveal his magic to the court, but destiny dictated that he do whatever it took to save Arthur. Even if it wasn't accepted officially for a whole week.

No one seemed quite sure how to react. At Court many called for his banishment, although a select few simply asked for the manservant's pardon. Merlin, they argued, had saved their king and that should be enough. When an enemy arrow had flown past the battlements and embedded itself into Arthur's shoulder through his chainmail, it had looked like the end - especially when the king had fallen from where he had been directing the battle atop the highest turret and plummeted towards the ground.

No one had expected the almost shabby looking young man who always stood beside their king to leap into the air after him, his blue eyes suddenly blazing gold as he stretched out both arms. It seemed like the warriors on both sides froze to watch the younger man grab his king around the chest and slow them both to a gentle landing on the cobblestones below. After placing Arthur carefully down, Merlin had spun around to face the enemy, his eyes blazing with power and anger.

The enemy army couldn't get out of there fast enough.

But still, the days dragged on as the whole kingdom waited to see what would happen to the young, awe-inspiringly powerful man who had calmly walked with the guards to the dungeons after the battle was over. He had paused just long enough to heal the unconscious king's wound before allowing the guards to take him away.

As for the people, it almost felt as though they were considering revolt unless the newly discovered warlock was freed from the dungeons immediately.

Years later, Arthur claimed he needed the time to process all that had happened and all that he had learned before making the proper decision; whereas Merlin asserted that Arthur had come to his conclusion by the third day at the latest and just made him hang around in the jail to be a prat.

"Don't listen to him," Arthur would bark in laughter to anyone in attendance. "He's a liar."

It would be years later before the pain in Merlin's eyes would stop appearing at the innocently meant insult.

Arthur had needed the time to process all that had happened – his visits to Merlin had filled him in on all the manservant had done to protect him and Camelot, the good along with the bad. Merlin seemed especially eager to get all the bad out on the table from the start, and almost downplayed all the good that he done, the pain he had suffered. He told Arthur everything.

And his friend and king did attempt to process everything – but it was impossible to truly grasp the magnitude of the events of several years in only a few days. Most of the events the warlock described would have each required a month of explanation to do them justice, but there simply wasn't time for it. However, Arthur's mind unconsciously wrestled with it for years and at often the most inopportune times, the memories would resurface and questions would emerge.

~.~

Merlin was clearing away the tack from his horse after they had returned from another quest (Arthur had offered to get his court warlock a servant, but being waited on seemed surreal to Merlin and he'd turned the offer down) when Arthur stormed into the stables.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Merlin arched an eyebrow in a manner eerily similar to Gaius' as he went to face Arthur. "You really need to be more specific," he grinned as he turned back and pulled the saddle off his horse. "I don't say anything about many things."

In truth, he had an idea of what Arthur was talking about. They had stopped on the way to their quest at the Castle of Fyrien, which was quite safe now that Cenred was dead and the battlements abandoned. Merlin had sat down on a rock by the sea only to jump up, howling and clutching his backside with both hands. Arthur had nearly fallen off his own rock howling into distinctly unkingly laughter when he noticed what had caused the manservant/warlock pain until he'd recognized the offending object. A ring.

A ring that he'd seen Morgana wearing when they'd come to the castle to save Elyan. A ring she claimed to have lost before they returned.

But why then was it positioned so perfectly on the rock?

Merlin had recovered from his melodramatic reaction and had settled back onto the seat, holding the ring and staring at with a look that was both intrigued and disgusted. He held it out for Arthur to see. "Powerful magic was once in this." He looked at it once again before flinging it into the sea. "Useless now – it served its purpose."

Arthur nearly cringed at the latent bitterness in his friend's voice and was about to ask what Morgana had been doing with the ring when trouble came, as it always seemed to do – because the day they had an uneventful quest that didn't have at least one attack happen would be the day that Gwaine gave up ale – and the question slipped from his mind.

It only reappeared when he felt the bulge of Gwen's ring press into the back of his neck as she embraced him upon their return. He had taken the time to kiss her properly in greeting before heading to the stables, nearly knocking over the servant tending the horses in the process.

"About the ring." Arthur replied, "Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"Arthur," Merlin shook his head. "I'd never seen it before. I was just as clueless as you."

Arthur would have remarked on that, but he decided to soldier on. "But Morgana used it, didn't she? Did she have something to do with the guards finding us?"

She had everything to do with it, Merlin internally groaned, but settled for a verbal, "Yes."

The king leaned against the stable walls, crossing his arms. "Why didn't you tell us about her?"

"I should have thought that would be obvious." Merlin said almost sarcastically.

Arthur's eyes flashed. "Clearly you didn't think, Merlin! You let us walk in there like sheep to the slaughter!"

"Hardly." Merlin's voice was calm although there was a slight flash in his blue eyes that had nothing to do with magic. "I tried to warn you, didn't I? The night before AND just before we ran in there." He dawdled over the unfastening of the saddle. "But were my instincts compared to your years of experience?"

Arthur refused to feel guilty for that; he wanted answers. "If you'd just told us Morgana was behind it…"

He was interrupted by a burst of almost merry laughter. Merlin was laughing so hard he had to lean against his horse clutching his side. "Like you would have believed me!"

"I would have," Arthur replied indignantly.

"Sure you would have." Merlin rolled his eyes. "Just like you believed me all those times that I said Agravaine was up to no good." Upon seeing the flinch his friend made at the memory – even years later, the betrayal of the man he had trusted but had used him like a puppet stung – Merlin's face softened and his voice became more reasoning. "You had known him since you were a child, but you didn't really meet him until he came to Camelot to help you rule. And you wouldn't listen to a word against him."

Merlin slung the saddle over its hook and walked over to his friend. "How was I going to explain to you that a person you had known all of your life and that you considered a sister was a traitor? You wouldn't have believed me." He looked away. "I certainly didn't want to believe it."

"How long did you know?"

"Since she came back after being 'kidnapped' by Morgause," Merlin replied softly. "She was the one who brought the dead to life during the siege."

"I remember." Merlin had mentioned breaking the staff to rid the town of the walking dead, which Morgana had taken credit for. "Why didn't you say anything then? You had saved Camelot, not her. You had proof that she was –" He couldn't quite finish the sentence.

"Any proof would have only gotten me killed." Merlin shrugged. "If I told your father I'd known because I had magic too, he would have me executed. If I told him I knew because of what had happened after I'd…poisoned her, I would have been executed." He sighed. "He wouldn't have believed me anyway, and with me gone where would Camelot be?"

It was a little disturbing hearing Merlin being so flippant about his own death, but Arthur put that away for another day. "I suppose." Merlin looked him in the eyes. "I am sorry, Arthur. If there was any way I could have said anything…"

"I know." Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry, too."

As the king walked out of the stable, neither man was entirely sure what Arthur was apologizing for.


	2. Of Love and Loss

Merlin was really beginning to wish Gwen wasn't pregnant.

He'd been almost as delighted as the future parents had been when they'd announced the news, somehow managing to drop an entire stack of armor (although in his defense, he'd been standing next to the cupboard in the armory and when he fell over something had to go). There had been a latent fear he'd refused to acknowledge that for some reason magic would need to be used to beget an heir and that, somehow, the terrible events that had occurred at Arthur's birth would return.

But everything had been fine, Arthur even choosing to embarrass Merlin when he'd expressed his concerns about heirs by commenting highly on his royal virility. That, quite frankly, was far more information than Merlin cared to know on the subject; the two of them were, first and foremost, his friends and some things about their relationship didn't bear thinking about.

So he was glad she was pregnant – it was just that he regretted all the free time she now had on her hands. Gwen had been told to reduce her duties as queen in order to get the necessary rest and avoid stress, and so she spent a lot of time hanging around with Merlin. Her friend couldn't complain about the mandate – as court physician, he'd given it himself – but he certainly regretted what she chose to do with her spare time.

Matchmaking. With him and pretty much every young girl in or around the castle.

Merlin rubbed his eyes in a mix of exhaustion and friendly irritation. "No, Gwen."

"And why not?" Gwen exclaimed, forking her hands on her significantly more ample hips. "She's a lovely girl, Merlin. And she has," her eyes twinkled, "been giggling about you ever since she came to work here."

"I'm surprised she's been able to breathe," Merlin said dryly, trying as hard as possible not to meet Gwen's eyes, "she's been here for two years."

"Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes softened and he smiled at her. "It's a nice thought, Gwen, and she's a nice girl. But I am not interested."

"But," Gwen sat down, groaning slightly as she shifted the unfamiliar weight around so as to keep the baby as comfortable as possible. "I just want to see you happy, Merlin. You've been alone as long as you've been in Camelot – and that's been a long time." She rubbed his shoulder, somehow just missing the slight tension that had entered his body. "I think that any girl would be lucky to have you."

Merlin took a deep breath and smiled again, although it was considerably weaker now. "Thanks, Gwen."

"So why won't you let me find you someone?" Gwen laughed. "Is there something wrong with all the girls in Camelot?"

"Nothing." At least nothing they can't help, Merlin thought, but they'll never be her. "I just – I don't want to find anyone, Gwen. I'm fine as I am."

"Liar." Gwen looked at him. "Why not?"

Merlin put down the flasks of potion he had been stirring and turned fully to face her. He looked her straight in the eyes. "Gwen, let me ask you something. If something were to happen to Arthur," her eyes widened, and he continued hastily, "which it's not, not while I'm around, would you ever want to find anyone else?"

Gwen blinked. "I…no, I wouldn't. It wouldn't be the same."

"Exactly." Merlin nodded, taking both of her hands in his and squeezing them reassuringly. "And neither do I."

"Merlin…" Gwen stopped and bit her lip, cursing the hormones that made her eyes water even as she should be strong for her friend. "What happened to her? Who was she?"

Her friend took a deep breath and stared at their clasped hands for a long moment before looking up at her. "Her name was Freya and," his voice became a little choked, "she died. A long time ago."

"Oh…" Gwen squeezed his hands tightly and then reached up to pull the court warlock into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Merlin. Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"It all happened so fast," Merlin's answer was muffled by her hair, "I barely knew her for a few days before she was…before she died." He snorted, although in more sorrow than in mirth. "Sometimes it feels like it was all just a dream."

"What happened? Was she very sick?"

Merlin pulled back and smiled at her, manfully trying to hide the moistness that was in his eyes even though Gwen knew full well it was there. "Something like that."

"What then?"

"Merlin, have you seen Guinevere?" Arthur's voice came from just outside the opened chamber door and he rounded the corner. "I've been looking every-ah." He smiled in a way that made Gwen's knees weak even as Merlin rolled his eyes in amusement. "What are you two doing?"

"Just talking," Merlin replied, attempting to dry his eyes surreptitiously as he bent over his potions.

"About Freya," Gwen added, and her eyes began to well at the thought of the pain her friend had gone through alone.

Arthur, being Arthur, completely misread the situation. "You told Gwen that I killed your girlfriend?"

As soon as Gwen let out a shocked gasp, Arthur knew he'd made a mistake. Merlin shot him a look that was equal parts irritation and amusement. "Of course I didn't," he said, "I'm not a complete idiot."

Arthur gave him a quick glare before turning to look at the terrifying love of his life as she walked towards him, her eyes flaming. "Arthur Pendragon!"

~.~

By the time that had all gotten sorted (with a little helpful explanation from Merlin) it was time for dinner with a visiting diplomat. Gwen had hurried off with her maidservant to get ready and Arthur had stayed behind with Merlin as he finished clearing up the potions so the two could talk about the ongoing negotiations with the diplomat's kingdom.

It was only through sheer will that Merlin did not lean against the potions cupboard as he closed it. "Arthur…am I needed at the banquet tonight? There are things I need to get done around here that are best done as soon as possible."

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly in concern, but he managed to keep his voice manly and brisk. "No, you don't have to go. You look like you're about to fall over – last thing I need is for these negotiations to go bad because of you spilling the soup in Lord Ulfric's lap or something equally clumsy." He allowed himself a small smile. "Take a break, Merlin. Anything big can wait until tomorrow."

Merlin simply nodded, and Arthur swept out, his cape swirling out behind him as he went into the corridor. Alone, away from the prying eyes of the court or of the visiting dignitary, he let his expression sink into a frown as the guilt hit him. Years had done little to dull the shame he felt for what he had done all those years ago, or Merlin's heartache, it seemed.

Neither Arthur nor Gwen were themselves at dinner that evening. Luckily, the dignitary had a more than voracious appetite and only needed the most basic of courtly gestures that Arthur gave without having to think much about since they'd been drilled into him since birth. When Gwen asked to be excused, her hand dwelling on her protruding belly pointedly, Arthur had left the table as well, leaving the dignitary in the capable hands of his court. No big decisions were to be made that evening anyway.

After setting Gwen comfortably in a chair back in their chambers, Arthur looked distractedly outside the window and sighed nearly imperceptibly. Gwen, knowing Arthur as well as Merlin did, smiled sadly and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Gwen…"

"I know, Arthur," she replied, "I'm worried about him too." She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. "Go on, then. I'd go too, if it wasn't for this," she gestured at her stomach.

"I shouldn't be long," he promised, being torn between worry over his friend and protectiveness over his pregnant wife.

She pulled his face down into a gentle kiss. "Take as long as you need."

~.~

Arthur had known about Freya long before he'd known about the magic, and so knew exactly where to direct the horse as he rode into the dark night. When he had walked into Merlin's chambers only to find them empty, he hadn't been surprised. Whenever the heartache was the worst, Merlin always went to the lake.

His horse neighed in greeting to Merlin's as Arthur dismounted and tied the reins to one of the trees surrounding the lake. Merlin must have heard him approach, but made no effort to look at Arthur even when the king sat down beside him.

They sat there in silence for a long time, Merlin pretending not to have tears welling in his eyes and Arthur pretending not to notice them. Occasionally Merlin would reach down to brush his fingers against the surface and the ripples were make a light noise in the darkness, but otherwise everything was silence and stillness.

"How could you –" Arthur began, only to feel the words caught in his throat. Merlin looked over at him as he tried again. "How could you forgive me? For what I did to her?"

Merlin gave a weary, half-hearted shrug. "It wasn't your fault, not really."

"Not my fault!" Arthur gaped at the other.

"I mean," Merlin waved a hand ineffectually, "you didn't know. That she wasn't just a monster, that she was a girl, that I lov-" Now it was Merlin's voice that choked and unable to continue.

"How can you not be angry?" Arthur asked, quietly and almost nervously.

"I was in a way," Merlin replied, "for a long time. I knew you did what you thought you had to…but it didn't change the fact that she was gone. Nothing would." He took a deep breath. "But, I was mostly mad at myself."

"Why?"

Merlin blinked furiously as he tried to steady himself. "It was my fault she was still in the city. I could have gotten her out so much quicker, but I just…" he sighed, "I didn't want to see her go…she made me…" He shook his head. "And then when I finally made plans to smuggle her out of the city, I took too long. If I'd only moved faster."

Arthur stared at him. "You would have helped her leave? But then you wouldn't have seen her again."

Merlin gave him a very pointed look and the king's mouth fell open in a very unregal manner as the implication hit him. "You were going to go with her? You would leave Camelot?"

"Leave us?" was unspoken, but both men heard it.

Merlin laughed, and the mirth, although mixed with heartache, cheered Arthur immensely. "Like you're one to talk – you were all set to abdicate and elope with Gwen because it wasn't safe for here." He arched a brow. "Become a farmer, huh? Make me do all the hard work?"

Arthur flushed and swiftly moved into their usual banter. "That was your job. Gwen told you that?"

"We're best friends – we tell each other everything…or at least mostly everything," he replied, grinning a little at Arthur's affronted expression. "Don't worry, she never told me that you snore, and I never told her about all those belts I had to enhan-"

"Shut up, Merlin."

Both men looked out across the water again, although the air was a little lighter this time.

"Merlin."

The light voice made both men's hearts stop for a moment, although for vastly different reasons, and they both looked down into the water. There, outlined in nearly transparent and fluctuating waves of water, was a beautiful dark-haired young woman.

"Freya," Merlin breathed reverently, leaning forward to get a closer look.

"Merlin," she smiled and seemed to move closer, "It's so good to see you."

Merlin's voice choked a little and he let the tears fall. "I've missed you, too." He blinked suddenly. "Is something wrong? Is Camelot in trouble?"

"No," she hastened to reassure him, smiling, "Camelot is fine. But I'm worried about you, Merlin." She reached up towards her love, causing the water to lap over his outstretched hand. "Your pain called out to me even through the Lake. What is it?"

Arthur cringed. Merlin smiled, although the effect was somewhat dampened by the grief and longing in his eyes. "I've just been missing you. It's hard when the roses bloom…I think of you."

Arthur regretted both the matchmaking Gwen had embarked on and the roses he had asked Merlin to put in her room earlier that day.

Freya smiled up at him almost cheekily and replied, "And what about strawberries?"

Merlin burst out into genuine laughter before playfully glaring at her. "Never going to let that go, are you? And strawberries were always your thing, Freya."

"Strawberries?"

Both warlock and lady of the lake turned to look at the king. Freya's eyes widened ever so slightly, before she bowed her head in respect. "Your highness."

Arthur's mouth opened and closed. It was clear that those two were made for each other – they were equally confusing. "How – there's no need to bow." He leaned forward. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you."

There might have been a flicker of pain in Freya's eyes, but it was hard to see in the glisten of moonlight across the water. "You did what you thought you needed to. I cannot judge you for that."

"How can you not be angry?"

"Oh, I was," Freya sighed, "at least for a while. Although if I had been killed before I met Merlin I probably wouldn't have been at all. It was terrifying," her voice shook and Merlin reached out to stroke her watery cheek comfortingly, "to hurt those people, to kill them and not be able to stop. Death was…freedom in a way. No cages, no shackles, no innocent people being hurt."

Merlin shuddered slightly, and Freya made another lap of water run over his hand. "But after meeting Merlin," she turned back to face Arthur, "I could find strength – and anger towards you when you took my love away from me."

Freya seemed to draw a steadying breath, and both men could almost feel the air passing by their faces. "But, I knew in the end that what you did saved more people than I can bear to think about. I just hated to leave Merlin – he made me feel loved, and I only hope I made him feel the same."

"You did," Merlin whispered, clearly struggling not to simply fall into the water. "You have no idea, Freya."

She smiled warmly at him, although tears could be seen glinting through the haze of water. "Merlin…" She looked at Arthur. "He is why I helped you all these times, Arthur Pendragon. I can forgive you for his sake, because fulfilling your destiny brings him peace. And that is all I want."

Arthur blinked a few times. Then cleared his throat. Then fell back on banter. "Merlin," he said, certainly not in a voice hoarse with emotion. "I think she's too good for you."

Merlin simply shook his head with resigned amusement, but Freya shot him a look that was strangely fiery for such gentle eyes and made him reel back despite himself. "I disagree. I often think he is far too good for you." She flushed and put both hands to her mouth. "Oh…"

Arthur laughed. "Well, at times I suppose I can agree with that." Merlin gave him a cheeky grin and Arthur rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Merlin."

Merlin smiled and leaned down closer to the water. "How long do you have?"

Freya's eyes grew serious. "I'm not sure. This is the first time I've pulled free on my own, I don't know when I'll have to return."

Merlin's eyes darted back to Arthur. "Er, Arthur?"

"What is it?"

"Would you mind…giving us some time alone?" Arthur just stared at him, and Merlin continued, "Oh come on, have I ever interrupted yours and Gwen's time?"

"Yes," Arthur said bluntly, "you have. Frequently." He grinned down at his friend as he got up, dusting the sand of the lake off of his pant legs. "But I guess I'll just have to show you by example what you're supposed to do." He gripped his friend's shoulder. "Will you be all right?"

Merlin smiled down at Freya. "Never better."

Arthur managed to not look back all the way up to the beaten path. Once he'd gotten there, he watched as carefully as he could to see what was happening. It was only when he heard a burst of pure, genuine laughter that he felt he could turn the horse and return to Camelot.

And the next morning Merlin, even though he had bags under his bloodshot eyes, looked happier than he had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's a Freylin shipper? *sheepish grin*  
> Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Of Fathers and Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur forgets, in his frustration, that Merlin has lost a parent too.

"Merlin!"

The court warlock and physician only just managed to keep from jumping at the king's bellow, although his elbow did jog one of the flasks he was tinkering with, sending the flask and its contents to the stone floor with a crash. Merlin gave a groan of irritation before reaching out a hand and waving it silently over the smashed glass and spilled liquid, causing it to reform and float back to the tabletop. As he picked up the flask and turned it in his hand, listening for the clink of any errant glass shards, he once again expressed gratitude that he'd learned the reformation spell. Not only would it have come in handy in the past (the changeling potion and the potion-that-might-actually-have-killed-Arthur jumped to mind), but he'd had to use it often when Arthur burst into his chambers without any sort of warning.

"Ever heard of knocking, Arthur?" Merlin asked drily, setting the glass-free potion on the tabletop as he looked up at the king who had just stormed in, banging the door open.

The fact that Arthur did not turn around and point out the hypocrisy of Merlin's accusation was a testament to his anger, if the bright red hue of his face and fiery expression hadn't already given it away. "You lied to me."

Merlin tried to ignore the dull stab in his heart – even years after the revelation, that anger still hurt. He forced his voice to remain level. "What about, Arthur?"

Arthur stood in front of Merlin, his hands finding the chair across from Merlin and clenching into fists around it. "My mother!"

"Arthur," Merlin sighed, "I know, but I've already told you that. Why bring it up now?"

Actually, Merlin had a pretty good idea why Arthur was thinking of it especially now – it had been two days since Arthur and Gwen had discovered that she was pregnant. Arthur, who had actually been getting some slight pressure from the council about producing an heir, had told Merlin how worried he was about what would happen if Gwen could not bear children. Magic was definitely out, he'd said, because the cost of a life was too high-

Arthur had stopped mid-sentence, his eyebrows knitting together, and thunderclouds had begun brewing on his face. The conversation might have continued on a much louder and angered track but both men had been called on to greet a visiting delegation. Also, the next day Gwen found she was pregnant, making the idea of a magic-assisted birth unimportant anyway.

So Merlin wasn't surprised that the thought of Igraine was on Arthur's mind. He was more surprised that the confrontation had been delayed so long.

"Merlin," Arthur said, each word hissed from between his gritted teeth, "was that my mother we saw?"

The court warlock looked the king straight in the eyes. "I'm not sure. That could have been a trick by Morgause."

"Do _you_ think it was?"

Merlin took in a deep breath through his nose. "No, I didn't sense any magic besides the summoning spell." That, and the love in those eyes and the joy with which the deceased queen embraced her son couldn't have been faked by Morgause, whose ideas of love were distorted by greed and ambition. "And even if she had, everything that was said was true." Arthur shot him a shocked look, and Merlin shrugged. "Gaius told me."

Arthur's fists clenched tightly. "Then why did you say it was a lie?"

Merlin said coolly, "I should have thought that was obvious. If I hadn't, you would've killed the king."

"And why would you care?" Arthur barked, only just managing to keep from flinging his hands in the air, "He hunted your kind like animals! He would have had you executed in an instant if you knew you had magic! Why not just let him die?"

"You would have never forgiven yourself," Merlin said, oddly in an even cooler tone.

"How would you know that?" Arthur burst out, too angry to force himself to acknowledge that Merlin was right or to think about what he was seeing. "You've never lost a father!"

Arthur knew, as soon as Merlin stood up and glared at him, his gaze somehow fiery and icy at the same time, that he'd gone too far. "Sire," Merlin said bitingly, "you are an idiot."

The king's mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

"You _do_ know that I'm a dragonlord?" Merlin continued coldly, "And you know that a son can only receive the power of the dragonlords when the one who gave it to him _dies_?" He exhaled deeply out of his nose. "You remember what happened to the last dragonlord?"

"You mean, Balinor…" Arthur ventured.

"I told you that, your highness, I told you," Merlin gritted, "But you were too busy yelling about Kilgharrah laying waste to Camelot to really care about it. But it doesn't change the fact that I saw my father died – and it was all my fault."

"I-" Arthur tried to begin, but Merlin cut it off.

"I still have nightmares about it," Merlin said, looking away, "I feel his weight in my arms as we fall to the ground, feel his breath still and his heart stop, and know that it was all my fault. He wouldn't have come if it wasn't for me. He wouldn't have died if he wasn't protecting me, if I wasn't so much of a coward to use magic in front of you, if I was stronger. And I was too cowardly even to grieve for him properly – the man who _died_ because of me – because he was apparently just a stranger and no man was worth my tears."

Arthur flinched.

Merlin pushed his chair back, clearly attempting to maintain his composure. He looked at Arthur with a piercing stare. "Forgive me, sire, for trying to save you that kind of pain."

All the anger in Arthur had long since drained away to be replaced by guilt and shock, and he struggled to find the right words to say. But by the time he had actually had regained speech, it was too late anyway.

For the first time in a long time, it was Merlin rather than Arthur who stormed angrily away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of several. This is the first collection I've posted on AO3, but it was one of the later Merlin fics I posted on FF.net. I hope you enjoyed it!


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